


Everybody Feels That Way!

by catastropheCatatonic



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety Disorder, Beaches, Bullying, Daydreaming, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Friendship, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Music, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Sibling Rivalry, Siblings, Summer Vacation, the author is projecting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:01:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29689200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catastropheCatatonic/pseuds/catastropheCatatonic
Summary: It is the summer of 2014 and Killua Zoldyck has just graduated the fifth grade. For as long as he could remember, summers meant two things: fighting with his family, and vacationing on the Cape. He expects this summer to just be more of the same, until he meets Gon Freecs, a care-free boy with a much different perspective on what 'family' is supposed to mean.
Kudos: 3





	Everybody Feels That Way!

**Author's Note:**

> TW for self-harm, emotional abuse, and undiagnosed mental illness. 
> 
> Also I am projecting! If anything here is weirdly specific, that's why.

The world of Killua Zoldyck was difficult to describe. For as long as he could remember, he had been watching the corner of his father’s eyes for any hint of anger, and found himself able to recognize the way his mother dragged her heels across the ground as she walked next to his bedroom door. It was a game to Killua; he even had a list of rules to follow so he could win, and a white-board hidden inside his desk that reminded him how many days it had been since his last fight with his parents.

One of the first rules he ever made was to ‘zone out,’ as he called it, whenever he didn’t want to experience real-life. Killua taught it to himself during a car ride with his parents a few years ago, and had been doing it ever since with extreme success. His mother and father yelled, and yelled, and yelled, but Killua could not hear them. Instead, he was off playing a video game in his head. His parents never had to know.

His friends first noticed it second grade when the class had taken a trip to the library, and Killua almost got left behind because he had secluded himself in a corner and began imagining he was playing Zelda. Back then, his friends thought it was pretty cool, even if they didn’t understand how he did it.

* * *

_“You guys can’t zone out?”_ Questioned Killua as he stood up from the dusty floor of the historical-fiction section of the library.

 _“No,”_ the taller of his two friends, Jack, answered quickly. _“I can daydream, though. Is it kind of like that?”_

Killua shook his head. _“No. When I daydream, I still know where I am. When I zone out, it’s almost like I’m asleep, or floating above my body.”_

 _“So, like, you feel like a ghost?”_ The other boy asked.

 _“Yeah,”_ Killua shrugged. _“I guess.”_

* * *

Killua lost all of his friends quickly. Most of them left because they were confused about why they weren’t allowed to come over, and usually thought it was because Killua secretly hated them. Others left because he called them a cruel name he learned from his father, or repeated a mean phrase his mother whispered in his ear after he made a mess in the kitchen.

He never understood why they stopped talking to him. _They should be used to this,_ he thought. _Their parents say those things to them every day._

Killua even kept track of the things his parents said to him, just so he could say it back to others. Among his favorites were: _shut the fuck up. You’re worthless. Nobody will ever love you but me. I can call you by any name I want. I said those things to make you stronger. Try getting this through your thick skull. I will tell you what to think._

_I will tell you what to say._

_I will tell you what to do._

Killua wondered why they couldn’t take it like him.

* * *

With every day that passed, it became more difficult to ‘zone-back-in.’ Directions given by teachers and other adults became harder to follow; Killua wouldn’t even be able to hear them most of the time. His soccer coach could wave a hand in front of his face for minutes at a time just to get his attention, and Killua would still be off space nonetheless. 

_Everyone feels this way,_ he remembered whenever he was benched during a game for ignoring a whistle or being off-sides. _Everybody leaves their body._

In third grade, he mentioned ‘zoning-out’ to his family at dinner, sharing his experience only because he thought they would relate. Instead, what felt like a thousand pairs of judging eyes penetrated his flesh. His ribs expanded and ached, and instinctively, Killua gripped the left side of his chest. His father began speaking, but Killua could not hear a word he said. Instead, the little boy held his breath and waited for the pain to subside.

 _“Killua,”_ his mother said from across the table. _“I just asked you a question.”_

 _“Why are you holding your heart like that?”_ Illumi asked, leaning to look straight into his brother’s face. The clattering of a fork against the ground was the last thing Killua heard before collapsing from his chair.

That was the only time he ever saw his brother cry, even though he later revealed he was faking it.

* * *

Killua was tested for every disease under the sun. When he eventually came up with a Lyme Disease diagnosis, the doctors told him he would be able to return to his body soon. However, even after three months of doxycycline, nothing changed.

All the pills did was make him feel sick to his stomach.

MRIs, EKGs, EEGs, and countless other tests were performed on him when the odd feeling did not stop.

 _“What do you mean, you feel like you ‘aren’t there?’”_ Asked the neurologist.

 _“What do you mean your chest feels like it’s constricting?_ ” Asked the cardiologist.

 _“What do you mean you can’t breathe_?” Asked the pulmonologist.

Killua never came back down to earth.

* * *

On his 10th birthday, Illumi gave his younger brother the old MacBook Pro that had been sitting unattended in his closet. For the first time in Killua’s life, he felt real; quickly, he discovered online video games and social media, where he could be anybody he wanted and no one had to know.

Killua was _good_ at games; really, really good. Every stranger he played with knew it. He even amassed a group of friends who would lift him up and cherish him. Virtual high-fives and text-speak compliments became the first and only kindnesses Killua had ever known, but it was this way for everybody, wasn’t it?

Everyone went through life as though they were a ghost piloting a machine of flesh and bone, didn’t they?

His parents eventually grew suspicious that Killua wasn’t just using the computer for homework like he initially promised. His father demanded to know why he was failing his classes, and his mother tried every trick in the book to get her son to tell her why he spent all of his time on the computer, but Killua told nothing to either of them.

 _I won’t let them take anything away from me anymore,_ thought Killua boldly. _They don’t have any power over me._

* * *

One day in mid-October, Killua came home to an eerily clean room, opposite to how he left it. In a panic, he tore through every drawer and box searching for the white shape of his laptop, but found only emptiness, inside and out.

His father called him a brat.

His mother called him an addict.

Illumi just looked on, seemingly in awe.

His parents took away his video games when they saw him smiling for too long at the screen of his DS. They took away his computer when they saw him making friends. A month later, they took away his iPod because he asked for his computer back.

Killua stopped asking.

Life went on.

* * *

Killua’s teacher sent him to the guidance counselor at least once a week.

She asked a lot of questioned, but he never answered them. Legally, he knew he didn’t have to, and so he didn’t. The only time he ever spoke to the Miss Johnson was when he had to beg her not to call his parents, and when she asked why, Killua would say that he didn’t want to bother them. Tentatively, Miss Johnson would put the phone down, and offer him one of the cold saltine crackers from the old, white fridge in the corner of her office that smelled like curdled milk.

As the year went on and the seasons grew warmer, Killua’s sleeves seemed to get longer and longer until he could wrap himself in oversized fabric. Beneath them were things he could not lie his way out of.

Razors and stolen kitchen knives felt like home. Because Killua had no music, he turned his fan up all the way and listened to it in the darkness of his room while pale skin grew irritated and red, all the while he imagined the world around him was bursting with color and love and _hope._

By then, it was almost summer. 

_Maybe they'll let me listen to a CD player in the car,_ mused Killua. _I wish I could ask them._

**Author's Note:**

> The next chapter will be posted very soon! This was just a prologue for ~exposition~ and stuff. Leave a kudos and a comment if u feel like it!


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